


Isn't This Exactly Where You Want Me? (In an Airplane Bathroom)

by orphan_account



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 22:56:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/854941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan and Brendon get on a plane. Ryan and Brendon meet. Ryan and Brendon hold hand holds. Ryan and Brendon sneak off. (Featuring awkward!Ryan and cocky!Brendon)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Isn't This Exactly Where You Want Me? (In an Airplane Bathroom)

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on livejournal

“Are you gonna be okay all by yourself, Ryan?” my mom asks, looking at me nervously. She hunches over my father to look at my ticket again, sighing when she realizes my seat is all the way in the back and not in the front with the rest of my family. 

“I’m not twelve.” I mutter. “I’m seventeen. I can sit by myself.”

“He’s right.” my dad helps my case.

“It’s just, you’re still young and terrorists, Ryan. Terrorists!” my mom yells. I try to ignore the worried glances people give us.

“We’re not even going to be able to board the plane if you keep saying that word, Mom.” I say dejectedly.

My dad snorts a little and my mom slaps his thigh playfully. It’s not long before our zone is called to board the plane. When my parents take their seats at the front of the plane, they tell me to be careful and listen to everyone. I roll my eyes and make my way to row twenty-one. I check my ticket again, smiling at the fact I can sit by the window.

When I find my row, the line of people ahead of me walking like they’re dying, I notice that there’s a kid sitting in the middle seat. I take precautions as I stuff my battered duffle bag into the overhead compartment. The straps snags on something and suddenly everything is falling out of my worn bag. I embarrassingly drop to my knees, ignoring the annoyed mutters of people behind me. I feel my face get hot as I pick up my clothes and toiletries. The boy who was sitting in my row leans over to help me, smirking as he picks up a few pairs of socks.

“Thanks.” I mutter.

“No problem.” he says. I look up briefly to smile politely but I realize he is too. I double take to see that, goddamn, he’s attractive. He has dark brown hair that flops into his matching eyes. His lips are full and he’s slightly red in the cheeks like he’s warm.

“You might wanna hurry up.” he whispers, eyeing the people behind me that look disgruntled.

“Right, yeah. Yeah, thanks.” I speak quickly, feeling even more embarrassed for staring.

I hurry to put my bag in the overhead compartment, making sure the strap doesn’t fling my bag down again. The guy who helped me pick my things off the ground stands up. He lets me pass, making slight jazz hands. I sit down, putting my carry-on backpack on my lap.

“So,” the kid says, sitting down next to me. Oh, fuck, small talk. Shoot me now. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Ryan. Uh, you?” I politely ask back.

“Urie. Brendon Urie.” he smiles and laughs at his own joke, moving his legs so he’s sitting Indian style. I resist the urge to move my leg away from his because now his knee is in full contact with my upper thigh.

“I get it, um, James Bond.” I smile.

“Do you ever smile for real, or do I only get polite smiles?” he says cockily.

“Polite smile?” I repeat slowly.

“Hello, passengers. This is flight 286…” one of the flight attendants comes over the intercom before I get the chance to understand what Brendon is talking about.

We sit silently through the safety lecture, me just realizing that an old man is seated on the other side of Brendon. I lean back and feel the plane start moving on the runway. I grip The armrest and feel kind of pathetic.

I hear Brendon giggle a little. “Have you ever been on a plane before?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’m just not good with heights.” I confess.

“My family travels all the time. Well, recently at least. I think everyone in my family just decided to die in the last few months. This shit is like my fifth funeral.” Brendon rolls his eyes.

“I’m…sorry?” I’m honestly not sure how to even reply to that.

“I didn’t know any of them, it’s okay.”

Suddenly the plane exhilarates, a loud noise overtaking the plane. The lights turn off and I grip the seat more and let out a little yelp. I keep my eyes open, feeling like a small child.

“Woah, calm down.” Brendon coos, grabbing my hand from the armrest of connecting it with his. And, what, is an attractive boy holding my hand voluntarily? “The lights turn off automatically when the start for takeoff.”

“Takeoff?” I repeat, an edge of fear clinging to the word.

“Yeah, we’re about to-“

I feel the plane lift up from the ground and I involuntarily squeeze Brendon’s hand. We’re titled backwards. I take a peak out of the window and freeze up. Holy fuck, we’re in the air. Brendon reaches over and shuts the window cover.

“You’re an idiot.” he teases.

“No, I’m not.” I say quickly, feeling my stomach drop as he go down a little.

“I’m joking, man.” he snickers. “Seriously, though, you’re not going to die. This is a routine flight; they do this on a daily basis.”

“Who said anything about dying? My god.” I huff.

“Nothing…” Brendon sighs a little. “So, um, why are you going to Michigan?”

“Visiting family.” I say grudgingly.

“Hey, at least they’re alive.” Brendon laughs like it’s nonchalant that he’s going to a funeral.

“Um, I guess.”

“Are you guys doing anything special? Are there even special things to do in Michigan?”

“My family owns a-” we have turbulence and I squeak as Brendon holds my hand tighter. He urges me forward in the conversation. “We own a cottage by the lake. We’re staying there for a weekend.”

“Cool. Sounds better than what I’m doing.”

We appear to even out and we descend into the skies. It’s a five hour plane ride, so Brendon I talk for a while longer. He doesn’t bother slipping his hand out of mine. Instead he tells me story after story of his life. We seem to connect easily and I don’t feel myself trying to come up with things to talk about. After a while we listen to music together, him giving me his right earbud. We shuffle through The Beatles and My Chemical Romance and laugh at how our music taste are similar.

“God, I don’t know why, but planes make me horny.” Brendon complains, getting an annoyed look from the man next to him. “Fuck, and I have to share a room with my whole family, so jacking off is completely out of the question.”

I laugh a little, probably no feeling as embarrassed as I should. “I mean, you could if…”

Brendon slaps me lightly on arm. “That’s disgusting, Ryan. Here I was thinking you had morals or something.”

“I’m joking, please don’t get off in front of your family.”

“I’ll take your advise.” Brendon says slowly. He smiles a little bit and then bites his lip. I watch nervously as his eyes roam my body freely. They stop on my crotch then look back up to my face quickly. “I think…I’m going to go use the bathroom.”

I watch as Brendon gives me a questioning look and I can already tell what he wants. I’m almost positive I want it too. “You know,” I say. “Let me come with you because, yeah, me too.” 

The man in the aisle seat, looking very confused, lets us pass. Brendon gives me a devious smile and we rush off to the back of the plane. Brendon quickly pushed me in and then closes the door. 

“We could get in a lot of trouble for this.” he says as he lightly pushes me into the back of the door. “I think that totally makes this hotter.” 

I smile a little but decide that I’m suddenly way too horny to just waste time in here. We both seem to go in for a kiss at the same time, our lips colliding together. It feels rushed and bruising, but that’s kind of what it is. I grab onto his shirt, one hand on his chest, the other at the hem near his hip. I pull of his shirt, our lips moving apart from each other as the fabric passes. He does the same for me, both of our shirts landing in a pile by our feet. My fingers instantly reach for his hip bone, pressing hard onto the skin. Brendon must enjoy that because he lets out a whimper of sorts. 

“You gotta be quiet.” I whisper. “And we should probably hurry.” 

“Yeah, good idea.” he breathes out. “God, your mouth is great, though.” 

“Yours is nice too.” I smile at him. 

Brendon kisses me, but doesn’t linger. “That was a nice smile. Not a polite smile. More like a ‘I want you to do dirty things to me’ smile. So, I think you deserve a blowjob.” 

“Yes, fuck, please.” I whine. 

Brendon smirks and then drops to his knees easily. He fiddles with my belt, the same one that I took off before going through security at least two hours ago, and then he pulls down my pants and boxers in one swift motion. I feel a little bare, but this isn’t the first time someone I barley knew gave me a blowjob. My poor parents think I’m so innocent, it’s laughable. 

I watch, in a complete pleasure-induced haze, as Brendon brings his hand up to my cock and runs his hand over my length to get me completely hard. I hold in a most likely loud moan and try to keep my composure. I barley manage as Brendon flicks his thumb over my slit. I fidget and drop my head back, my fingers curling. 

“Brendon, holy shit. Get onto the blowjob, we don’t have time.” I say to him in an unsteady voice. 

“We don’t or you don’t?” Brendon snickers. 

I ignore him and concentrate on the pleasure his hand is still making for me. He moves it up the base of my cock and then slowly put his mouth on just my head. He sucks lightly on it, and I feel my breath catch. It’s been way too long since I’ve had a blowjob. That part is now clear to me now. Brendon slowly move his hot mouth further down my dick and I try to keep my noises to myself. 

He suddenly pulls off completely. “You know, with us having to be quiet and all, I don’t get to hear you, so I’m not sure if I’m doing a good job. You should hold my hair or something. Just don’t, like, fuck my mouth or anything. At least then I wouldn’t think I was doing a shit job and–”

“Okay, okay, I’ll hold onto your hair, just hurry up.” I complain, feeling like I’m essentially going to explode. 

Brendon smirks innocently. “What’s the magic word?” 

“Hurry the fuck up.” 

“You were so nice before.” Brendon laughs. 

“That was before you teased me with your mouth and then spent like two hours on explaining to me you wanted me to hold your hair even if a simple ‘hey, can you put your fingers in my hair’ would have–” 

Before I can finish, Brendon has his mouth on my dick again. He starts bobbing up and down and I tangle my hands through his hair. I pull on his locks right away, letting him know that I am indeed enjoying his work. He only sucks harder and I feel myself fall to pieces. 

“You’re good...” I mutter, my words sounding broken and then turning into a quiet moan. “At this.”

I feel Brendon slowly move his hands up to my balls and rolls them in his hands. If I thought he was good before, he just got better. I feel my breaths start to get heavy and quicker and my stomach starts to feel warm. I try to keep myself from moving my hips towards Brendon’s mouth, but it’s almost impossible. I keep tugging on Brendon’s hair and I feel my toes curl in my shoes. 

“Brendon… I’m gonna…” I try to warn him. 

He’s quick to take his wonderful, warm mouth off of me and he finishes the work with his hand. I close my eyes and almost feel bad for how hard I’m pulling on Brendon’s hair. I finally come, my head lolls backwards and I let out a heavy breath. Everything feels amazing and I try to milk out the orgasm for as long as it’s worth. Before I can even recover, Brendon licks at my swollen head. It only adds to the accumulated pleasure and leaves me bitting my lip and trying to be quiet again. 

“You lasted longer than I thought you would.” Brendon smirks deviously at me, standing up next to me and buckling my pants back up. 

I roll my eyes and quickly take off Brendon’s pants. I don’t think he’s expecting a blowjob considering the time limit we appear to have. I don’t waste time looking at Brendon’s dick, which is only a little longer than mine, and instead just place my hand on him and start jerking him off. He goes in for a kiss, his tongue instantly finding the seam of my lips. I let him in and I feel him jerk a little when our tongues touch. 

Brendon pushes forward into my hand, obviously enjoying the much-needed attention. I try to go quicker, making sure to tease his slit on the downstroke. Unexpectedly, the plane rocks a little and I push Brendon into the wall. He lets out a loud moan when my hands pushes against his cock. 

“Jesus Christ.” Brendon breathes into my shoulder. 

He wraps his arms around my middle and his blunt nails dig into my shoulder blades. I move back a little and give myself room to go back to helping Brendon get off. I trail my hands all over his body, taking a plunge of courage and squeezing his ass. He doesn’t respond much to it, obviously more concerned with the attention his dick is getting. 

“Fuck, fuck…” he breathes out heavily. “Ryan.” 

I feel a hot liquid in my hand but I keep moving up and down. Brendon finally stops moving and the bathroom is silent with our loud breathing. I’m the first to break away using toilet paper to take Brendon’s come off of me. I turn back to Brendon, who is putting his pants back on. 

“Wow, we need to do that again sometime.”


End file.
